


Aftermath of a Nightmare

by sick_boy



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Age Play, Bathing/Washing, Bathtubs, Bedwetting, Daddy Kink, Diapers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hand Jobs, Hannigram - Freeform, Humiliation, Hurt/Comfort, Infantilism, M/M, Mention of spanking, Nightmares, Spooning, Will is showered with kisses and love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-01
Updated: 2013-11-01
Packaged: 2017-12-31 04:31:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1027250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sick_boy/pseuds/sick_boy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will has a nightmare, and his daddy takes care of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aftermath of a Nightmare

Will Graham was whimpering in his sleep, his face contorted in panic and pain as he thrashed about. Hannibal knew this because he was lying next to him in the darkness of his bedroom, imagining carving those lines of fear into that body himself, like Michelangelo chiseling away excess marble, leaving only the perfection that was his David.

His own angel wildly pulled winter air into his lungs and grasped the damp sheets around him, sweat slicking his body and plastering his curls to his forehead.

“Will,” Hannibal’s voice was soft and hazy from sleep, and the terrorized man was too far into the recesses of his mind to hear him.

The psychiatrist sat up in bed, gently shaking Will by the elbow so he wouldn’t lash out at his potential attacker.

“Will, honey, wake up.” 

“Ahh- no,” Will moaned, clawing at the sheets.

Hannibal kept rubbing his arm. “Will, wake up,” he said loudly.

Will’s upper body twitched and he jolted upright. Hannibal let go of his arm in case he got violent- subduing him would jostle their trust, even though Will would understand retrospectively that it needed to be done.

Will hunched his back, breathing laboriously. Hannibal’s lips tightened into a frown.

“Do you know where you are, Will?”

He nodded, his eyes closed as he focused on slowing his breathing.

“Tell me, love.”

He swallowed, his voice gravelly with remnants of fear. “Your house.”

The older man put his hand to his lover’s damp back. “That’s right.”

This was the third time this week Hannibal had had to wake Will. The first time he shrugged it off, told Hannibal to go back to sleep as he padded to the bathroom, reaching back to pull the shirt off his toned frame.

The second time, he’d toweled himself off, climbed back into bed, and pulled Hannibal’s hand over his chest, Will resting his hand on Hannibal’s, whose fingers thrummed with Will’s strong heartbeat.

This time, his shoulders hitched in sync with tiny, almost inaudible gasps. Hannibal’s steady hand on his back guided him into his arms, where Will’s last fort broke as he sobbed into his lover’s chest, his arms wrapped tightly around him.

“Daddy,” he sobbed brokenly, clinging to him.

Hannibal was slightly surprised at his shift into their father/boy dynamic. It was possible Will wasn’t even aware of what word slipped out of his mouth, his subconscious aware of his needs. He wondered if the contents of the dream were perhaps not murders and psychopaths, but cruelty of a different nature, one that hit closer to home.

Nevertheless, Hannibal was there to provide comfort to his little one, stroking Will’s curls. “There, there, baby boy. Daddy’s here. Daddy will make it all better.”

“They’re getting worse and worse,” he cried.

Hannibal held the boy’s spasming body, rubbing circles into the back of his damp shirt. Though Will’s brokenness was gorgeous itself, he recognized the weight of his lover’s agony, and sympathized with him, wanted to comfort him in any way he could.

They stayed like that for a while, Will’s limp, sweaty body in Hannibal’s embrace.

After Will’s crying dwindled, he sat on his haunches by the pillow and started to fiddle with his hands. His posture was introverted, shying away from his daddy.

Hannibal raised his brow minutely. “Is there something you wish to tell me, Will?”

Will nodded his head, staring at his hands as he mindlessly played with them. “I-I w...” The rest of the words were lost to Will’s mumbling.

“I’m sorry Will, if you want to say something to me, you’re going to look at me and talk clearly.”

Will looked into his eyes, a flush of colour creeping up on his ears. “I w-wet the bed, Daddy.”

Hannibal nodded; it didn’t take a preternatural sense of smell. “I know, little one, I know.”

He shied away again, this time playing with the hem of his night shirt. His voice is withdrawn. It seemed Will wanted to ask but was afraid of the answer. “A-are you gonna spank me, Daddy?”

The jolt to Hannibal’s groin was succeeded by a ping of worry. He brought his boy’s chin up with his knuckle, thumb smoothing his cheek. “No, Will. Daddy only spanks you when you knowingly misbehave. This was not in your control; little boys have accidents sometimes. We’ll get you cleaned up, change the sheets, and it’ll be all better.”

“Okay,” he said, in a small, shy voice, soothed by the answer but still embarrassed by his body’s betrayal.

“Come on, baby, we’ll run you a bath,” Hannibal brought him close with his arm around him, kissing his sweaty cheek. He got up to help Will off the bed, careful to avoid the dampness and the stain darkening the middle of the sheets. Will’s wet boxers clung to his thighs.

Hannibal turned on the bright light of the lavish bathroom. The cold of the tiled mint floor creeped into their bare feet. The psychiatrist twisted the crystal knobs of the cavernous bathtub, large enough to fit two people. Gushing from several holes in the tub like a jacuzzi, the water filled the room with warmth and ambient noise.

“Take your clothes off and wait here while I change the sheets. Daddy’ll be just minute.”

Will did as he was told, shivering at his damp body’s contact with the slowly warming air. He held his soiled clothes in his hands, shirt wrapped around his urine-stained boxers. How could this have happened? He was a grown man. Had his relationship with Hannibal gotten to his head? Was it all stress from work? His nightmares were certainly more frequent, co-morbid with his headaches.

“William?” Hannibal questioned, grounding him back into reality with his hand on his arm. Will’s nerves were still shot from his terror-filled night, and the gentleness of Hannibal’s touch did not stop him from flinching until he recognized who and where he was.  
The bath was quite full by now. “Sorry,” he winced. Will couldn’t do anything right in this state.

“No apology necessary, sweetheart. Allow me to put these in the wash, I’ll be back in a moment.”

Hannibal took the soiled clothes from him, brushing his hands over his lover’s.

When the older man returned, he frowned at the sight of his naked, shivering lover hugging himself next to the tub, once again lost in thought.

“We shall get in together, Will,” said Hannibal, efficiently stripping of his navy silk pajama set.

Will’s usual hesitancy at nudity didn’t show as his daddy took his hand and stepped into the bath with him.

The hot water livened his previously numb feet, the galvanizing heat sparking pins and needles underneath his skin. Sensation spread from his toes to his ankles and calves, then his knees, thighs, and torso as they eased into the hot water.

For the first minute, they sat opposite each other in the spacious tub, Will relaxing with his eyes closed while Hannibal poured a wonderfully aromatic chamomile bath salt into the water. The flowery scent intertwined with the warm, pleasantly humid atmosphere and filled the whole room with a sense of therapeutic serenity.

Hannibal then made his way over to Will’s side of the tub, and pulled him onto his own body, so that Will sat in between Hannibal’s legs, his back resting on his daddy’s chest. The older man wrapped his arms in Will’s, and together they sat breathing deeply for an indeterminable amount of time, Hannibal pressing his lips to his boy’s right cheek.

“That’s my boy,” he whispered in his ear. “I love you more than anything in the world.”

They sat in blissful silence during which time Will may or may not have drifted off. Hannibal, who had taken to rubbing slow circles in his boy’s chest, tapped gently at his skin. “We have to get you to bed, little one. Lets wash you up.”

Hannibal uncapped an ornate, expensive-looking bottle of creamy soap, spreading it generously on the loofah. Starting with his chest, he lovingly but effectively scrubbed him down, lifting up each limb and kissing each clean patch of skin. Will reveled in the attention, the smallest of smiles on his lips as his daddy moved to his hair, lathering up his dark hair in his fingers, massaging his scalp with his fingertips.

Then he moved to Will’s lower half. Hannibal instructed his to lift his leg from the water and shifted Will off of him so he could reach his foot. Hannibal took his time thoroughly scrubbing in between toes, all around his calves and his solid thighs, nearing tantalizing closer to where his legs met.

“Alright you,” Hannibal chided, “Time for your private parts.”

Will lifted his rear out of the water and Hannibal teased him with the painfully slow scrubbing. He circled around to his boy’s penis and balls, brushing mildly over the area, pressing himself into the curvature of Will’s back. Then he squirted some soap on his hand and stroked his shaft.

Will let out a groan and a breathless “Daddy...” his head tilting back into Hannibal’s neck in pleasure. They both lay down again in the water, the boy lying on his daddy while he worked his cock, his left hand massaging his balls.

As Hannibal’s pumps increased in speed, Will’s moans got more and more desperate. “Oh,” he gripped at Hannibal’s thigh as his thumb grazed his sensitive peehole.

The boy’s hips bucked back, and he drew in a breath. “Daddy, I’m gonna come-”

“It’s okay, sweetie, let it out. Come for me,” his lips tickling behind Will’s ear.

Will squirmed and bucked while Hannibal fisted his cock until he came, moaning “Daddy!” and spewing strings of thick cum into the water. Then he fell back against Hannibal, who had grown hard at his boy’s moans and the hardness of his cock against his palm.

Will’s quick rising and falling of his chest was slowing. “Thank you, Daddy. Do you want me to take care of you?”

“No, another time. Right now, we need to get back to bed.”

“Okay,” he said, satisfied.

“Stand so Daddy can let the water out,” his baby rose and shivered at the sudden drop in temperature, water draining down his sleek body. Hannibal unplugged the bath and grabbed a towel, quickly drying himself off. “Out of the tub, William.”

He stepped out of the draining water and let his daddy wrap a towel around his shoulders as he shook from the cold. Hannibal rubbed the towel against Will’s skin, up to his face and tousling his hair, then running it down his chest, behind, and legs.

Next he dried both their hair with the hair dryer, Hannibal’s bangs coming down over his eye and Will’s abundant curls fluffy.

They then parted with the towels and walked naked back to the bedroom, gooseflesh rising on their skin. Moonlight fell on the new sheets; they were a handsome, striking grey.

Hannibal re-dressed in his silk navy pajama set. He opened the drawer reserved for Will’s night clothes when he stayed over and picked a fresh shirt but stopped at the boxers, and turned around.

Hannibal sighed, as if this wasn’t prolonging his erection. “We need to get you in a diaper.”

Will had anticipated this, but kept quiet in the hope that his daddy would forget. “Nooo, Daddy, I don’t need it! I’m a big boy, I just had an accident!”

Hannibal looked into his eyes. “Big boys don’t wet the bed, Will.” The comment brought a blush to his face as he helped Will into his white t-shirt. “It is just for tonight, unless the problem continues.”

“But my bladder’s empty, Daddy, I swear!”

His daddy remained patient but matter of fact. “No arguing, Will. Lay on your back for me, legs up.”

Will pouted but knew Hannibal wouldn’t be swayed. He didn’t want to cause any more trouble for him; his daddy had taken good care of him, and he knew they would both be tired tomorrow from this diversion from sleep.

As he lay down in the diaper position, he realized he was very tired. The orgasm had drained him of the adrenaline from his nightmare, and he was now pleasantly foggy-headed and sated.

Hannibal soon came back with a towel, talcum powder, and a diaper. Though Will was humiliated to wear them, he couldn’t deny that they brought a sense of security to him. The soft towel was tucked under his freshly cleaned bottom. Hannibal huffed the powder onto Will’s penis and his inner thighs, smoothing it into his skin. Then the white, padded diaper was slid underneath him, and the secure straps stretched the material over his flaccid penis, around his bottom.

“See? No harm done,” Hannibal smiled. He planted a kiss on Will’s forehead. The supplies were taken away, and a few minutes later, Hannibal returned to bed. They lay on their sides, faces inches apart, studying the beauty of each other in the moonlight.

But even the new sheets and his loving father could not dispel the thoughts in Will’s mind. He said quietly, not wanting to disturb the silence of the house, “I’m worried about nightmares, Daddy.”

Hannibal sighed, reaching over to stroke his boy’s cheek with his thumb. “I’m afraid even I cannot always shoo away the monsters in the recesses of your mind. There are things we can try, guided meditation, hypnotics. All hope is not lost, little one.” He gazed into Will’s big blue eyes that were dilated in fear only an hour ago. “Try to rest now. Daddy will be here to watch over you.”

Will turned on his left side and Hannibal embraced him from behind, Will’s curled form cocooned in Hannibal’s solid figure. The older man’s breath caressed Will’s neck, just audible in the still silence of the house. It created a pacifying rhythm, one that Will’s body automatically matched.

As he drifted into sleep, he heard Hannibal whisper, “Goodnight, my beautiful boy.”

The pull of sleep softened Will’s words. “Goodnight, Daddy.”


End file.
